


Midnight Blue

by Girl_WithTheDirtyMind (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Reader, Cocky Dean, Confusion, Crying, Dean Hates Witches, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fear, Harmless Involuntary Magic, Hurt No Comfort (at first), Kidnapping, Magic Revealed, Minor Violence, Roughness, Scary Dean Winchester, Secrets, Tears, Tension, Threats, Witch!Reader, Witchcraft, lying, scared reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Girl_WithTheDirtyMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters love catching wind of good ol' fashioned cases, and when they get a call about one in Portland Oregon they gear up and go like two kids headed to Disneyland. This time it's a case involving an object of power that needs to be destroyed: The Midnight Blue.  The kicker is, the object happens to be at a weekend hotel convention for witches and witchcraft... Dean hates witches. </p><p>There are hundreds of booths and vendors selling real objects and fake ones. . which is where you, the natural born witch you are, unwillingly come in. Dean seeks you out and drags you along for the bumpy ride, basically trapping you in a hotel with him for the weekend. Tension, violence, sex, and hilarity ensue. A ride it is indeed. . . ;)</p><p>Witch Fic. Tagged chapter by chapter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Witch Meets Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts out pretty angsty, but I promise, promise, promise, that once the two make it to the hotel in chapter 3 and meet Sam things start to get pretty funny. . . and fluffy. . . and smutty. But also with some lingering angst mingled on in :) 
> 
> Just some minor violence in this chapter, no real triggers. Enjoy!
> 
> Midnight Blue is based on a request from Daddy_Deans_PieGirl, and picks up with her idea in chapter 3 :) I hope this turns out to be satisfying for you!! <3
> 
> A 5-6 chapter story.

The library was quiet, no one had come in for a few hours and you honestly weren’t expecting to see another soul for the rest of the day.

That’s why you loved the library. People just didn’t go to them anymore, so doing homework or screwing around on your laptop was possible while still getting paid.

Plus, and more importantly, you didn’t have to worry about your powers getting out of control in front of anyone either. Out in the open, you had to concentrate with everything you had to not blow your cover.

That’s just something witches have to deal with. No you weren’t a mortal that played around with dark magic for kicks, you inherited your powers from your great great grandmother. . . but not willingly.

At first you hoped that ignoring them would make them go away, but in reality they started to become too much to handle, on the worst days it was almost impossible to control.

Not to say you didn’t use magic to your advantage sometimes.

When you turned 18 this year, your parents had all but kicked you out on the streets. Luckily compelling a landlord for a relatively nice apartment in the city didn’t take much power. Whenever you had extra money from work, you would give it to him even though you didn’t have to.

_Being a good person can be annoying sometimes._

Practicing magic had it’s perks. You didn’t have to get up for the tv remote when it was across the room, cooking could be hands free, and you were just beginning to learn how to levitate.

Never would you indulge in dark magic. _Never_. That hadn’t looked fun for anyone. Natural abilities that you worked to conceal were harmless little tricks really. . but if they were ever seen by any passerby, it might invoke a panic.

So you could never develop real relationships or go out without having full control over your emotions.

The only place you could be free was at home. Or in the woods. Or in the library alone like you were currently. In fact right that second, you were actually glowing.

A visible aura surrounded you, color coordinating to emotions and feelings when you allowed it to, that was one of the things that had to be consciously suppressed out in the open.

Another that naturally happened was smells.

Specific smells would permeate the air around you based on whether you felt happy, sad, angry, or scared. That was easier to get away with sometimes when you found yourself outside, or in like the candle section at Walmart.

Now your aura glowed a soft sparkling gold hue coupled with the scent of rain and freshly cut grass. You were content.

Humming softly while scrolling through the Facebook feed, you found it hard not to envy all of the girls who could go out with friends uninhibited. Laughing and partying and. . . _Kissing_. _I can never do any of that._

To think of the havoc your powers might reek if you were under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or desire made you shiver. _What if my friends saw me glowing?_ Now that high school was over, it was a little easier.

A particularly useful skill though was the ability to read people’s emotions by touch.

That one was harmless enough to use freely, and you found yourself doing it often. But other than that and the occasional compulsion, you swore to never use powers on other people.

And never to use them for bad. Never. Period. End of story. It meant too much to you. . . _All I want is to be normal_.

The little gold bell above the wooden door clanked, causing you to absorb your aura and fragrance forcefully with a strong inward breath. You straightened up from the laptop quickly and adjusted your top with a big smile on, it was genuine although you were still mostly focused on concealing your power.

A tall man rounded the corner.

He wore a dark blue jacket over a flannel over a black t-shirt. _Layers much?_ Faded jeans fit him perfectly and rested over top his dark leather work boots, that vibrated the floor with every confident step he took.

Finally your eyes found his face, and your smile fell a little at the stern expression he wore; eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed into a pouty line, and narrowed green eyes scanning the library like he was taking in every detail.

 _Hunter_.

You knew it for sure. He had the look, the swagger, and probably the weapons tucked into every pocket he wore. _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck._

He had you gulping and shifting nervously behind the big oak desk, like a wanted criminal. When his eyes found yours however, his expression broke into a jaw droppingly beautiful grin. It made your heart stutter and you forgot how to breathe for a moment, grateful that your face was mimicking his naturally so the dangerously sexy man didn’t think you were ogling.

_Okay, so maybe he’s really just in here to get a book. Yeah. Calm down and pretend like he’s any other customer._

“Hey sweetheart,” his voice was deep and rough. . . _and he fucking called me sweetheart, holy shit! Okay calm down . . Calm_.

“Uh hi,” even though he was right in front of you, you gave him a cute little half wave that had him chuckling, like you were the most adorable thing in the world. Still chuckling lightly, he leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk and looking directly into your blue eyes.

You blushed and fought the urge to giggle like an idiot.

“I’m looking for someone,” he started, “a girl actually, although I’m sure she ain’t as pretty as you by a damn sight.” he winked and you almost died right there, but somehow managed to casually shrug and say,

“Yeah probably not.” with a slick little wink of your own, that had his eyebrows raising in surprise and approval.

“Well it would mean a lot to me, if you could point me in the right direction.” you nodded swallowing hard with the effort to contain your giddiness from popping out in a bright yellow. “Her name is  , she supposedly works here. . Do you know when she’ll be in next?”

Your heart froze, his sharp green eyes seemed to flash momentarily like he noticed your face paled or something. He probably did, but you worked to keep a calm facade in front of the Hunter,

“Who wants to know?” fuck your voice quivered a little,

“Name’s Dean Winchester,” he said evenly with a little smirk, “Took her to dinner last night, and she forgot her wallet at my place. . . Just trying to get it back safe and sound.” you nodded and casually folded your hands under the desk so Dean couldn’t see them shake.

“Well I’m sorry Dean, but I don’t know anyone by the name . . .” you lied without looking at him, “but - but I hope you find her and get that wallet back. . .”

You squirmed in the chair and hid your face behind a curtain of long blonde hair, picking at a spot in the desk like a potential sliver was the most interesting thing in the world. Silence from mister Dean Winchester towering over you in front of the desk, had your brain thinking about breaking for the door but you weren’t stupid enough to do it yet. _Yet_.

Your eyes widened when you smelled it. A mixture of rotting flesh, mildew, and a sort of musty house smell. With a quick look up to see if he noticed, your wide and nervous eyes connected with his. They were narrowed.

He definitely noticed. Dean’s face was harder than when he walked in, and you could practically feel the gunshot to the head in your near future.

“What’s your name girl?” it sounded like a statement instead of a question, you furrowed your brow at the title he managed to make sound so demeaning,

“Cl - Claire. . .” you thought quickly, “My name’s Claire, Sir.” adding the Sir with the hopes of appeasing him with respect, but he didn’t even blink,

“You’re a bad liar ,” he growled, eyes darkening with building anger,

“I told you, there is no  here!” you insisted, standing up and taking a step back from him, “I think you should leave before I call the police.” He actually laughed when you said that, and your aura rushed out in a cold inky black. _Oh shit._

It was the color of fear.

Dean reached behind his back and in a flash he had a gleaming silver gun aimed steadily at your chest, you yelped and froze, feeling the color drain from your face.

“Now ,” he sneered, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.” You body felt cold and your skin prickled with goosebumps,

“Why?” you whispered, feeling your eyes shine with the beginnings of tears. He cocked his weapon in response to the question, and narrowed his eyes,

“Because if you don’t, I’ll fucking kill ya. Plain and simple.” You grandmother had warned you about Hunters like Dean. Said that they would always be after you, couldn’t see past the magic and potential evil.

That they would shoot first and ask questions later, but never before had a Hunter noticed you like this.

You had nothing to go on. No idea how to handle this man, so you did the only thing you could think of: dropped to the floor and scrambled under the desk of course. Bringing your knees to your chest and pulling the wooden chair firmly up against your shins, you tried pointlessly to reign in your magic, but got nowhere with it.

Hiding under the desk was pathetic and pointless, but you couldn’t think of a single other thing to do. With shaking hands, you dug a cell phone from your pocket and dialed 911.

Dean’s heavy work boots thudded with every step he took as he made his way leisurely around the big desk, tapping his fingers on the smooth surface as he walked. The man seemed to be in no hurry and he had even started casually whistling as he moved over to your side.

Tears spilled over at Dean’s unnerving confidence, it had your hope draining, and you hiccuped on a quiet sob. The dispatcher’s voice flooded your ear just as a dirty leather boot stepped into view,

“911 emergency -”

“There’s a man at my work - he has a gun!” your voice was rushed and high with fear, “Please you have to help me, he - he’s gonna kill me!” you muffled an onslaught of loud sobs with your hand as the dispatcher puked out some bullshit about staying calm or whatever. Dean scoffed at you,

“Oh come on now. . .” he wrenched the chair violently away from you, obviously ignoring your frightened scream as he squatted down with his forearms resting on his thighs and his gun hanging nonchalantly from his fingers. You tried to push yourself further back under the desk, but there was nowhere else to go, you just wanted to get away from him. _Hunter’s are scary._

 “P-please don’t shoot me!” you cried fearfully and Dean flashed you his trademark grin, chuckling darkly when you only whimpered up at him in response. Dean slightly gestured to the phone with his gun,

“Keep talkin’ sugar, wouldn’t want you to stop on my account,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “Oh and don’t forget to give her the address nice and slow so she has time to type it out. Wouldn’t want any mistakes.”

Dean only returned your stare with a humored smirk on his face and calm warning in his eyes while you gaped at him. Knowing that he was only toying with you, you said the only thing that you knew might cause him trouble later on down the road.

“His name is Dean Winchester.” As soon as you said it, Dean lost his cool.

His big hand wrenched the phone from your ear, pulling a few strands of blonde out in the process, and threw it down with enough force to smash it. A loud gunshot echoed through the library when he shot the phone for good measure.

When Dean reached out, you started crying harder and slapping at his hand like it would keep him back, huddling further under the desk like there wasn’t a wooden barrier blocking your escape.

The firing of the gun sent your fear to new heights, but by the looks of it, your terror only made Dean smile, which made this whole situation even more terrifying. He wants me to be scared. . .

The man yanked you roughly out from under the desk by your arm and slammed you into the floor hard enough to send pain shooting through your back. You screamed and fought with him until he planted a heavy knee directly on your stomach, and leaned on it until you couldn’t breathe.

Laying beneath him gasping for breath and pushing pointlessly on his knee, only made you feel more helpless. . . The guy was dominating you easily and it was sort of humiliating, but then again no one had ever attacked you before so there was no past knowledge to go on. Dean tucked the gun away, and grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“You can either get up and walk out of here, or I can knock you out.” he tilted his head like he was considering something, “Or you can keep pissing me off and I’ll just kill ya right here. Your choice sister.” Body jerking with breathless tears, you shook your head rapidly in his grip.

“Good choice.” he hauled you hauled up off of the floor by your arm, feeling Dean’s rage flowing from his touch. It was coming in waves that were making you dizzy, and before you realized you were doing it, you pulled on him trying to rip your arm out of his grip.

He was so mad that the emotion was actually hurting you.

The only warning you got was a growl, before his fist connected with your temple hard enough that you were seeing stars.

You felt yourself slump over against his hard frame, but couldn’t regain control of your limbs plus your mind was so scrambled from the hit that there was no pain yet, only pressure. . . you were about to blackout, and that was the worst thing that you could do right then.

If I’m passed out I won’t be able to defend myself at all. Apparently your body didn’t get the memo however, because strong arms cradled you as you drifted into the uncomfortable darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, comment away lovelies! 
> 
> Also if you noticed anywhere in the story where it said "she" instead of "you" or anything weird like that let me know, I started out writing this in OFC format. . . that's also why some of the sentences might seem choppy. It's - it's just. . yeah. . . *sighs
> 
> Thank you for reading!! :)


	2. Just Do It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in the backseat of a strange car driven by the violent man from the library. Turns out getting to know him isn't so easy, neither is coaxing out his gentler side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay only trigger warning I can think of on here is a very vague reference to rape - it doesn't happen but as a kidnapped woman Reader is worried about it a little. I mean, waking up in a strangers car and all. .
> 
> She struggles with her underdeveloped tough-girl bravado in this chapter - she'll get better at it in a bit. Dean will rub off on her some :) Anyway, enjoy this one!

You woke with a start, flinching against the phantom pain in your body that had caused the blackout initially. A quick frightened survey made you aware of four things.

One you were in the backseat of an unfamiliar car. Two, that had to be the back of Dean’s head visible over the seat. Three, Dean’s taste in music was loud and obnoxious. And four, there were no weapons nearby. Not that it would matter, because with a jerk of your limbs you found that you had been bound.

Quite thoroughly at that.

Your hands had been together tied in the front, legs as well, and to top it off, another length of rope connecting your wrists and ankles was stretched taut with only about two feet of wiggle room.

Movement was impossible, which was no doubt what Dean wanted. A valiant effort went into staying calm, but there were already fresh tears in your eyes as you thought back to the events leading to the kidnapping.

 _God why can’t I be tough? Why can’t I at least pretend to be tough?_ Then a familiar voice whispered in your head. . **_Magic, use your magic to stop this._** _**.**_ it fell on a deaf mind though, you were used to it by now. Used to fighting that side of you when it wanted to play.

 _Dean didn’t kill me. ._ but while that came as a relief it was also fairly alarming since it meant he needed you for something _. Maybe he thinks I have a coven. . . What if he wants to torture me?_ When your breath hitched it made you suddenly grateful for the loud music. _Or he could need me to do a spell. . but what happens after that? He’ll kill me that’s what._

You struggled to keep a hold on your aura, knowing that if you emitted a smell or allowed color to tint the air Dean would be angry. _It’s best to appear like a normal girl, so he might feel bad for me. Fat chance._

All that resulted in trying to loosen the rope was a burn on your soft skin. A tear fell out then, and soon following was an involuntary distressed sob. The music didn’t mask that one as well, and Dean’s head jerked slightly back at the pathetic sound; a second later the music was no more. You didn’t speak, you were too afraid to. You knew first hand that this man had a hair trigger, so you didn’t want to risk engaging it again. . .

He was like no other Hunter you’d ever run across, but the embodiment of what every seasoned witch tells horror stories about. Every young witch including yourself, used to be told bedtime stories about men like Dean catching them in the night if they didn’t go to bed like good little girls. And it was looking more and more like you were right to believe them.

Hunters really were terrifying and rough, it was no scare tactic at all, it was a _warning_.

“Doin’ alright back there?” they way he asked wasn’t kind, you figured if you told the truth about rope burn and sore muscles he would tell you to fuck off. So you just didn’t answer. That irked him a little, “ _Well_?”

“Let me go.” you got right to it, voice scratchy and throat dry. If he looked back he would see that you were crying, but so far your voice didn’t give it away yet. _Little victories._ He snorted like it was the most absurd request he’d ever heard,

“Yeah, that’ll happen.” again you tried to work the ropes, but there was absolutely no give. Panic was building and it soon became too strong for you to control. The car was saturated with the smell of uncertainty and worry, which sort of smelled the way an old rotting haybarn might. Dean seemed to growl as the odor hit his nose, and you pressed your lips together to keep from sobbing,

“Knock that shit off.” he warned lowly, only making the smell worse with his subtle aggression.

“I - I can’t.” you whimpered fearfully, tensing for whatever Dean was about to do. Your guess was yell,

“You’re stinking up my fucking car!” you were right, he did yell, and it was scary. Tears came faster,

“I’m s- sorry -” you wavered, “It’s too strong, I - I can’t control it.”

“Can’t control what?” he snarled, locking his jaw in obvious anger,

“The fear - _my_ fear it’s too strong, I’m t- too scared.” your voice shook as you struggled not to start bawling, but your face burned in mortification at the admission, like you shouldn’t be so scared or something being a witch and all. It was a little sad, but hey, you’d never woken up bound and kidnapped in a hunter's car before. The next sentence came out shrill and strained,

“What are you gonna do to me?” finally Dean looked back and you saw the flash of surprise at just how much you were actually crying, but he quickly covered it with his hard serious mask.

“Whatever I fucking want,” he answered, deep voice hostile, “so don’t piss me off sister.” there was a pause where only the soft hitching of breath sounded in the car, then he spoke a little more gently. “That’s what the smell is? _Emotion_?”

“Y -yes.” you whispered, “Usually I can hide it, but if the feeling is too strong, it just. . takes over.” _God I sound like I’m gonna have a panic attack_. Dean nodded,

“Is that why you passed out on me earlier?” he asked, seemingly intrigued,

“No, you punched me in the face.” you snapped, a little anger tangled in there,

“Sure as Hell wasn’t hard enough to drop you like that.” he retorted. Idly you wondered if you should tell him everything, but knew he would be able to tell if you were lying anyway,

“Your um. . . your anger was overwhelming, and it sent me into a blackout in order to cope with the pain.” he was silent at this information, and you wondered if he was offended for some reason.

“That happen often?”

“Not really,” you softened the answer for his benefit. Truthfully it had never happened before, “You have really strong emotions.” he shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. After a moment of silence you swallowed and forced out the next question. . . One that you might not want the answer to, “You’re not gonna _hurt_ me right Dean?”

The air was still, tense, as you watched the big man roll the timid words around in his mind. Finally he answered, regaining his scary Hunter’s edge,

“Haven’t decided yet, but probably.” you stopped breathing as your veins iced over, but he continued speaking, “Don’t bother trying to fool me with your innocent little girl shit, I’m not buying it. You deserve everything I give you.” if you weren’t terrified before, you definitely were now,

“N -no. . . Please don’t hurt me!” you cried suddenly, beginning to sob and struggle with the ropes, “I h -haven’t done anything wrong - I don’t know what you want but if you let me go I won’t tell anybody about this I swear to _God_! Just please I -”

“Shut the fuck up kid.” he snapped, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“ _No_! No I’m telling you I’ve never used my magic, I don’t even want it. Oh God _please_ , let me go - I just wanna go home!” you were babbling and now in a panic so intense that you didn’t even realize he’d pulled over, until he turned completely around in his seat to pin you with the most angry green eyes you’d ever seen,

“Last warning. You say one more word, I’m knocking you the fuck out again, got me?” you pressed your lips into a trembling line and managed to nod once while your body just screamed from the inside. “Good.” he gave you one last hard look, before turning back to the front when an overwhelming feeling in your bladder suddenly hit.

Risking the aforementioned punishment, you spoke up timidly,

“I -I um have to pee.” it was so quiet and shaky you wondered if he even understood, but he wrenched open his door with a growl and got out. _He’s either going to let me out or knock me out. Please be the first one. . ._ The whole car seemed to rock with how aggressively Dean yanked the back door open, and one look at his face had you struggling to scramble away, but in your bound state, it was next to impossible.

Your bladder screamed in discomfort and you clenched every muscle to avoid losing control in the car. _Dean would definitely kill me then._

When his hand closed around your leg, just under the knee, you let loose a dry screaming sob and went completely still, curled into a protective little shaking ball on the seat. _Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me. ._ A heavy sigh came from him at the cowardly display,

“Do you want to take a piss or not?” he didn’t sound angry, only mildly irritated now. So you cracked a watery eye open to peek at him. He was staring with a look that said he was done with your shit,

“O -okay,” you whispered, and he nodded before whipping out a big knife. You stiffened all over,

“Oh don’t be such a scaredy-cat.” he griped, “I’m cutting the ropes, if you behave I won’t tie you back up.” you nodded mutely, but was unable to help the way you flinched every time the blade got close to your skin. When he was done you didn’t move to sit up, still wary of the Hunter who said he would hurt you like it was no big deal.

Dean gave an impatient gesture to hurry the fuck up so you timidly sat up, wincing at the sharpness in your lower abdomen and inched out of the car, keeping wide (e/c) eyes on him at all times as you stood,

“Will you put the knife away?” it came out on a whisper, and he didn’t even break eye contact before he said,

“No, it’s insurance. Now get squattin’.” your face reddened at his crass words,

“Aren’t you gonna turn around or something? I - I could go behind the car. . .” he chuckled, dashing your hopes,

“Nope. If you have to go as bad as you say, it shouldn’t be a problem.” _he couldn’t possibly be asking me to pee in the road right in front of him. . . could he?_ A harsh red color emanated from your’s skin suddenly, and instead of being offended, Dean only smirked, “Aw, is somebody embarrassed?” he chided, while you looked down sniffing at the sharp prick of more tears,

“I can’t. . .” you spoke softly and sat gently back down in the Impala, staring miserably at your shoes.

“You’re not gonna go now?” he sounded annoyed, but you only shook your head, dropping a tear on the tip of your shoe. It was infinitely worse, seeing as you really did have to pee, but there was no way you were gonna do it in front of him. _I’d rather explode first._ “You expect me to let you back in my car while your ready to pop?”

Oh no you didn’t like where this was going at all. Without looking at him you spoke,

“Look I don’t care if it’s what gets you off or whatever, you - you can’t _make_ me pee in front of you.” it came out sounding like more of a challenge than it was meant to, and one look up at him told you that’s exactly how he took it.

“Is that right,” you didn’t like the glint in his eye. Not one bit.

“Just turn around, I swear I won’t try and run away.” your voice was rising with distress, and you whimpered loudly when Dean jerked you up and out of the car by the arm. He got right in your face, making you stand up on tiptoes only to be at eye level with his chin,

“Either go right here, or I’m ripping your shorts off and keeping them for the rest of the trip. Either way you piss here, so decide whether you want to wear pants for the rest of the day or not.” you gaped at him, stumbling a little when he released you, “You have five seconds to water the road, before I _make_ you do it myself.”

All you could do was stare at him open mouthed for a moment, no one had ever treated you like this. . and no one had ever made you pee in front of them before. It was all too much.

“One.” he deep voice startled you a little,

“ _No_! You sick bastard, I’m not fucking doing it!” even though the words were tough, your voice wasn’t - they sounded unnatural coming out of your mouth, and you weren’t fooling anyone. Honestly you were just a scared little girl right then.

“Two,” he interrupted.

“Please just turn _around_. .” you whined, but received only a raised brow. So with shaking fingers you fiddled with the button on your shorts while he watched. When you got them open though, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull them down, instead they remained clutched to your waist in a death grip. When he made a low sound of disapproval at your hesitation, you started to cry.

It couldn’t be helped.

“Three.” his voice was still hard and unfeeling, but you still didn’t move to obey him. Not only was the entire process humiliating, but the idea of removing your shorts - even for a moment - in Dean’s company was terrifying for some reason. He was a loose cannon.

“ .” it came out through his clenched teeth, “ _Four_.” you swallowed hard and shook your head, knocking loose a few tears that were clinging to your chin.

“I _can’t_. . .” it was a quiet whine, he had you sniveling with (e/c) eyes focused on the road. His answer was quick and heartless,

“Just take em off, you don’t got anything I haven’t seen before sweetheart.” that made your tears come harder, and your body had began to visibly shake. You were trying to say the word “ _please_ ” but your trembling lips kept getting stuck on the ‘ _p_ ’. Dean gave another hard sigh, “Oh Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” you peered up at him through wet lashes, wet (e/c) eyes wide and frightened, “Just go around the car.” he looked disgusted,

“W -what?” you whispered, not trusting Dean for a minute,

“Just go around the car, it’ll protect your goddamn feminine modesty or whatever.” you didn’t need to be told a third time before scurrying around the car with your shorts clutched to your waist feverishly. His voice called from behind, “No funny business or I’m tying you back up.”

 _Thank God, thank God, thank GOD!!_ You wiped your eyes and tried to collect yourself while you cast one last glance at Dean to make sure he wasn’t moving, before squatting down and out of sight. The feeling of your bursting bladder emptying was borderline euphoric, and you couldn’t help the loud heavy sigh that came with it, hearing an answering chuckle around the other side of the car that made the aura redden again.

You wiped at your nose taking multiple deep breaths, relishing the limited privacy and taking advantage of it to visibly try and relax. It was easier said than done though, your emotions were roaring inside and it was basically impossible to reel them in. Dean would just have to deal with the smells and colors. Speaking of, he must’ve heard your stream stop,

“Hey you done?” he sounded suspicious and it gave you an idea. You wondered what would be more idiotic, trying to escape or not taking advantage of this opportunity. . . It might never come again. Before you could really decide, you were up and running - _sprinting_ as fast as your feet would carry you down the stretch of highway, realizing almost as soon as you started just how dumb this was.

 _Where did I think I was going?_ It was all straight highway and stretching yellowed fields.

Even if you could outrun this guy - which you knew you couldn’t - he would definitely be able to outdo you on distance. . and distance was all you had out there. **_Use magic. ._** a voice whispered, but as usual you ignored it.

“Hey!” you glanced back at his roar, screaming when you saw how quickly he was closing the gap despite the fact that you were running as fast as you could. Knowing in your heart he would catch you, you pushed on with the road blurring ahead from more tears.

Even though you were expecting it, when Dean took you down in a brutal football tackle, it elicited a fearful shriek from trembling lips. The air was knocked from your little body as his muscled weight crushed you to the rough asphalt, and you gasped and scrambled for the air that he was so cruelly withholding.

 ** _Use your magic, you can stop this with magic. . ._** the voice reminded a tad tauntingly,

“ _No_.” it sounded like a grunt through clenched teeth. _I won’t do it. I vowed to never to use it on people._ . after all a normal girl wouldn’t have that advantage right now so why should you? A normal girl wouldn’t be in this situation. . . “Get _off_ of me!” you cried, trying desperately to crawl out from under him.

Dean flipped you over easily, taking your weak slaps and fruitless squirming in stride, you were no match for him after all. A gasp snuck out when he captured your wrists in one of his and slammed them above your head, the skin to skin contact allowed you to feel his rage in all it’s glory. . . it was _insane_. And terrifying.

“What did I say, huh?” he spoke almost to himself, ignoring your thrashing when he pulled the knife back from his waistband, “Not to fucking try anything, and what did you do?” at the sight of his weapon you were reduced to a sobbing fit, wondering if he would kill you right there.

“No _don’t_!” you screamed, trying to ignore the burning fury that was almost searing your skin. “Let go!” Instead of heading your pleas, Dean positioned the blade at the hem of your shirt and sliced open the front in one powerful jerk. “ _Stop_!” you shrieked, fighting in earnest, but still falling short.

“This is what happens to girls who don’t listen.” he quipped before dropping the knife to grab at the open shirt.

“Stop, please don’t - get the fuck off of me!” what was he going to do? It wasn’t looking good that’s for sure. You were teetering on a weird line between that brave badass witch that you wanted to be and that begging pathetic teenage girl that you sort of were.

“Time to learn somethin’ sweetheart.” the words sounded ominous given the situation and you went limp with fear. _Oh God no. . not that._

“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” you whimpered, shaking your head quickly and squeezing your eyes shut, “ _Please_ don’t touch me. . . Let me go you son of a bitch!” you sobbed helplessly, feeling more fear beneath the man than you’d felt in your whole life,

“What?” his hand on your wrist tensed a little. You were still sobbing lowly with your eyes screwed shut, but his flowing emotion changed a little bit. The white hot anger ebbed to make room for cooling confusion and a hint of pity. But before you could hope he flipped you onto your belly and wrenched your arms up behind your back,

“No! No, _no_ please!” you begged, inhaling dirt from the blacktop,

“Shut up.” he clipped, maneuvering the ruined shirt down your shoulders until he could use the whole garment to tie your wrists snugly. And then it happened. All of that fear and panic gathered under your skin right where he was grabbing at your wrists and turned white hot under his fingers,

“FUCK!” he yelled and tipped back a little only to have your magic flare up once more and throw him off of you and to the asphalt about three feet away. Until he groaned and you let out a huge breath, you didn’t even realize you’d been holding it.

 _Thank God I didn’t kill him_. . but now there was an even angrier hunter out for your blood, and now there wasn’t a doubt he was gonna get it.

Dean recovered surprisingly quickly from the surge of power, but instead of climbing back on top of you, his footsteps crunched away toward his car. You knew better than to believe he was leaving though. _Oh no this is bad. ._ Even though it wasn’t a very loud sound, you jumped when the trunk door slammed.

Jingling could be heard getting closer, but when you tried to crane your neck to look back, the bottom of his _boot_ crushed your cheek into the ground so you couldn’t see a thing.

Muffled cries were pouring out of your mouth at the painful grinding of the road on your skin, but it was clear he wasn’t pushing as hard as he could be. What felt like handcuffs snapped around your wrists beside the ruined shirt, and as soon as the metal touched your skin. . your magic was muted. _Gone_. You couldn’t feel a single thing.

Another desperate cry sounded beneath his boot at your confused terror. _What did he just do? Why can’t I feel anything? How am I supposed to protect myself?!_ And you were sobbing again, not even stopping when he removed his foot from your scratched face, or kneeled down next to you. You did however speak to him,

“I’m sorry - I’m _sorry_ ,” it was hard to speak through your violent crying, your words were coming out thick, “I’m so _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! I c-can’t control it sometimes - please - _please_ don’t hurt me! I’m so sorry. .” more sobbing and the man just watched you with these intelligent green eyes,

“Why can’t I feel anything? What did you do? Please _please_ I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me I swear I’ll be good. . I _swear_!” and he just let you babble and cry like that with a sort of bewildered look on his face. The loss of your magic made you feel unbelievably vulnerable in his presence. Sure, you weren’t planning on using it on him, but now that the choice was completely taken away, you felt more terrified than you ever had.

“Relax.” was all he said, and it wasn’t actually all too kind either, but the single word gradually made you go from a complete sobbing mess to just a sniveling frightened girl. When you quieted down a little he spoke again, sort of softly, “There you go. The cuffs are warded against magic, as soon as I take them off you’ll get it back got me?”

He paused and you could only blink at him,  “I’m not gonna hurt you. . it’s getting pretty obvious that you haven’t got full control on your magic yet am I right?” then you did speak,

“ _Yes_! I mean - I mean no I don’t, I swear I didn’t mean to -” he held up a silencing hand, and you pressed your lips together,

“Alright.” he clipped, “Now, I’m gonna keep those bad boys on until we get to the convention. .” _did he just say convention?_ “and we’re gonna talk like civilized human beings, do you think you can manage that?” your face burned at the implication that you were anything less than civilized just because you were a witch,

“I’m a witch, not a barbarian asshole.” that snapped out without your permission, but the man actually chuckled where you thought he’d freak out.

“Yeah well. .” Dean lifted from his crouch, his eyes studied for a beat too long, but you didn’t dare move, “I hate witches."

“Then why haven’t you just killed me?” it was a small whisper like you afraid to remind him that he could do that,

“Unfortunately I need ya,” finally your trembling body was hoisted upright to stand, but you avoided eye contact like the plague, still scared out of your mind.

“For what?” you swallowed hard,

“Oh you’ll see,” he chuckled, wrapping his big hand around your bare arm. Normally you would have had a rush of emotion from him, and you braced for it. . only to receive nothing. It was the strangest thing to not feel him.

“W-what happens _after_?” you chanced a look up at him when he began to walk you, and found his unrelenting hard furrowed gaze focused on the car in front of him. Dean shrugged with pursed lips,

“I dunno, maybe I’ll let ya go. .” he led you to the passenger seat, “Or maybe I’ll get to off ya, depends on how helpful you are.” more tears flooded your eyes and the tiny gasping whimper that escaped your lips was totally accidental. His sharp eyes snapped over to you though, “Oh relax would you? It’s a joke for fuck’s sake. . Sort of.”

Well that wasn’t relaxing at all, but at least he couldn’t kill you right now. There was time to win him over. Again you flitted your nervous eyes at his face, without magical powers Dean was a tough read for sure, but he looked to be. . _pleasant_? Almost amused even while he watched you fidget around in front of him,

“Why are you being nice?” well maybe " _nice"_ was embellishing it a little, especially when his features went hard again and he basically shoved you into the open passenger door. However just before he slammed it, which he very nearly did, Dean did the most surprising thing he’d done all day.

“I’m sorry.” your red rimmed (e/c) eyes flew to his conflicted greens. “I didn’t mean to scare you before. You know with the rippin' your shirt and all that shit. .”

“Yes you did.” you dared to correct him, and he nodded, scrubbing a hand over his stubbled face,

“I did, but not. . like that.” his voice was gravelly with regret, “Not like that .” you swallowed, still shaken from his rough treatment,

“I j-just thought you were really gonna. . .” your eyes brimmed and Dean watched you struggle for words, “I mean it _really_ seemed like. . . thank you for. . _not_.” you finally finished quietly - meekly even - as Dean seemed to realize just how vulnerable you really felt with him all at once.

“I’d never.” he affirmed, “Not even to a monster.” and with that endearment, the two were back to square one. _Monster. He just called me a fucking monster. What a dickhead._

The door slammed and Dean made his way to the driver’s seat, he settled in casually as if there wasn’t a bound 19 year old girl beside him.

“Can you at least cuff me in the front? This is really uncomfortable.” you asked, trying to adjust so there wasn’t so much pressure on your shoulders,

“Not a chance.” he cleared his throat, and pulled onto the highway squinting sidelong at the fidgeting girl, “How much do you know about Midnight Blue?” you stilled,

“Uhh,  _what_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah you have no idea what the Hell he's talking about.
> 
> Sam's up in the next chapter, as well as the unfolding plot line! They arrive at the hotel convention and things get a little funny - plus, trapped with him in a fancy hotel room, you begin to look at Dean in a bit of a different light.
> 
> Comments and suggestions are always welcome! I love to hear from you all :) Thanks for reading lovelies <3


	3. Rough Tumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once you and Dean make it to the Hotel. . certain feelings begin to get a little confusing between the two of you in your quest to try and win him over. Dean reveals to you the power of the Midnight Blue. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay chapter three :) If any of you have been to Portland or live in Portland, you're gonna know exactly where Dean and Reader are!
> 
> **The Latin word "Ardebit" translates to "Burn", and "Satis" means translates to "Enough"**
> 
> If you read anything, let it be the end notes. I'm struggling on this one guys. Sorry :/

The ride to Portland was uncomfortable and really long.

Dean had only stopped twice in the span of nine hours and your bladder was screaming again. . but there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were gonna ask him to stop again. Not after what almost happened last time.

However he was nice enough to loan you an over-sized t-shirt, which he helped you shimmy into in one of the restrooms, taking care to keep one shackle on at a time. So that was something. .  at least you had a shirt.

Dean had been silent since he told you of the Midnight Blue - an irresistible gemstone that harnessed powerful dark magic. That was all he said. Well that and _“it needs to be destroyed, and that’s the only reason I’m putting up with your ass.”_ _Awesome_.

When you tried to get more information from him, the man treated you like you were some kind of criminal mastermind, intent on destroying him with the knowledge, but really you were just afraid.

Your magic was still wild and hard to handle, that plus the fact that Dean emphasized the “dark power” of the stone, had you practically sweating with nerves. Dark magic was new to you, and there wasn’t a hair on your body that was down with getting close and personal with it.

Hell, even your _normal_ powers scared you sometimes. If you ever met a witch that told you otherwise, you were talking to a damn liar. You shifted your arms in the cuffs for the millionth time, your shoulders were screaming at the long term bondage. They were thick and iron. . really more like shackles when you thought about it.

“So it’s a _convention_?” you asked a little too hopefully. The green eyed man looked at you sideways, never softening that hard exterior,

“That’s what I said.” _okay lot’s of people, lots of opportunity to get away_. .

“What do you suppose people will think about these handcuffs.” he glanced at your awkward position with your hands behind your back with a raised brow that said a little more than he meant to. You blushed and fidgeted.

“Sam’s got it covered,” he grumbled,

“What’s _that_ mean?” his short bland answers were getting old,

“It means don’t worry about it and don’t think I’m takin’ the fuckin cuffs off.” he bit, “No one is going to come to your rescue alright? Cause you’re not gonna make a scene.” he was watching the dark road too intensely for your comfort,

“Who says I won’t?” he gave a smirk and a grunt before turning to look you dead in the eyes and growling,

“Ardebit.” a millisecond of confusion was all you got before your whole body felt like it was on fire.

“Ahhh!” you screamed, thrashing around listlessly in the seat and falling on your side toward him, “Stop! _Stop_ \- make it stop! Ple - _PLEEAASE_!” Dean listened to your wailing with a smile on his face before finally saying,

“Satis.” and the white hot feeling was gone. . it was like your blood just boiled in your veins, and you took a moment to let out a few dry - shocked sounding sobs right there on the seat. His big hand came down beside his thigh to pat your cheek a couple times, chuckling darkly when you flinched and whimpered,

“W-what was that. .” now even more afraid of the Hunter.

“Oh just a little perk that comes with the cuffs,” his grin was toothy and seemingly out of place for someone who just made you feel like a ball of fire. “It’s Latin. I can make a witch - like you - feel like she’s burning at the stake if she decides to be a pain in the ass.” you paled, starting to feel like you might hyperventilate.

 _This guy is fucking insane._ If only it wasn’t dark out, other cars on the freeway could see you signalling for help. . Dean probably planned it this way. It was close to Midnight, and you felt trapped in the large cab of his car, suffocated by the night that forced you both into your own little bubble. It was like nothing existed outside of the car.

“Oh my God. . .” you whispered, and got another weird face pat,

“Yeah, hurts doesn’t it? So try not to piss me off. There isn’t a thing I like to see more than a witch gettin’ hers. Freakin’ witches man. .” a tiny bolt of sparking anger twitched in your brain, you wanted to yell and scream at this son of a bitch, but you were also weary of the Latin spell work he now held over your muted body.

So you said the only thing you could think wouldn’t upset him too much, but would also get your point across,

“I hate you.” it was a borderline snarl, and for a moment Dean looked surprised as he watched you sit up and lean against the door. For the most part though, he was amused. Asshole.

“Feeling’s mutal babe.” he quipped and beat the gas as the Impala delved into the meat of the city. While you tried not to look at the borderline sadist chauffeuring you to a convention that you wanted no part of, there was no denying that he was glancing at you. Often. It made you nervous, but also a little hopeful for some reason.

**~**

“Hey,” his deep voice startled you out of some wishful escape plans, and you looked at him wearily,

“What?” the cuffs jingled at your fidgeting. Dean glanced at your stiff body,

“You can unglue from the door sweetheart, I’m not gonna bite ya.” you gulped but stayed frozen,

“I think I’m fine right here.” Dean took an exit ramp,

“Come on, we’re almost there.” then he breathed a little laugh, “I don’t want my brother thinkin’ I beat ya.” you only looked at him, and after a few more sideways glances his smile died. “Fine, be uncomfortable.” and with that he cranked the radio and turned his hard eyes back on the road.

Looking ahead you saw what looked to be a shopping mall, there was a parking garage that read Lloyd Center in huge lit up block letters. He took the next left and circled the tree covered block to come to a nice looking hotel. You stared at the lit up welcoming structure right up until Dean pulled into the parking garage,

“This is where the convention is?” you asked hesitantly,

“Yeah, Sammy said we booked the last couple rooms.” _Sammy_. For some reason hearing Dean say that name gave him an ounce of humanity to you. . _he could be fond of someone after all._ “Freaks.” he shook his head and pushed the sleek black car to the top level, where an even bigger man was leaning on a relatively new Charger.

The first thing you noticed after his height was his hair, brown and sort of whispering in the gentle breeze on the roof, you liked it. The man looked serious, though not as much so as Dean who whipped his car in the empty parking space right next to him,

“Is that. .” you made a leap of faith, “S-Sammy?” Dean’s head snapped to you as soon as the last syllable left your lips and he looked practically enraged. _Whoops._  “I - I mean. . _you_ called him - I’m sorry.” you finally whimpered, shrinking back into the door.

Green eyes pierced you until your eyes watered, then Dean snorted once and shook his head before shoving his door open and getting out. You got one more strange glance before he slammed the door and met his brother.

Scanning the top level lot, you realized that the Impala and Sam’s car were only accompanied by a suburban a few spaces over. . other than that, you were on your own. Now that Dean was out speaking lowly with the tall man, you really tried in earnest to get the shackles off.

They didn’t budge, and more liquid clouded your vision.

After all of these years cursing your powers and wishing them away felt foolish, because now that Dean took them, you felt more vulnerable and helpless than you ever had in your whole life. Now you really were just a normal girl handcuffed in a stranger’s ride. . and only now did you realize how terrifying it was to be normal.

No way out, no tricks up your sleeve, just the mercy of a seemingly ruthless man and his Hunter brother.

When you felt watching eyes, you startled to see both men zeroed in on you through the windshield - gazes hard and unfeeling - it made you start to struggle with the shackles more vehemently. However when they moved around the bumper to your door, the fearful anticipation made you go rather limp, and you looked to your lap when the door opened.

The chilly night air wasn’t the only thing that made you shiver.

“Well she doesn’t look like much.” Sam commented sort of boredly,

“Yeah well she was the first witch I found on the way, so we’ll work with what we got.” you hated how they spoke like you weren’t sitting right there, but decided you hated even more when Sam spoke directly to you,

“Come on out .” you glanced at their feet and shook your head quickly,

“Let’s go,” Dean prompted, but you only sat rigidly. He sighed, “It’s alright we just need to get -” the sudden gentleness in Dean’s words sparked warmth, but he was cut off when Sam gripped your arm and yanked,

“ _Ow_!” you cried, clambering out the door as he probably bruised your flesh. As soon as your feet were relatively planted the big man released you with a rough shove into the side of the car that had you whimpering in pain and significant alarm.

“Dude.” you peered through a curtain of your (h/c) hair nervously. Both men looked a little uncertain now, so one last time you tried to reason while side stepping slightly away from Dean.

“Please let me go. .” for once the green eyed man had nothing to say, and Sam gazed at you with frustrating impasse. “ _Please_ , just uncuff me and let me go, I’ll -”

“Oh for - we’re a little past this don’t you think?” Dean finally groaned, you gulped,

“But - but  I don’t know _anything_ about dark magic, and I can barely control my own. . I can’t help you.” his eyes flashed, but Sam was the one who spoke,

“Alright,” Sam rumbled with a shrug. And you allowed foolish hope to bloom, only to be cut down by the sight of the tall man’s gleaming knife appearing out of nowhere, “Then we’ll just kill you right here.”

Icy horror clouded your mind and caused you to stagger along the side of the car only to crumple to the ground next to the tire when you felt Sam’s huge hand wrap around your arm. You curled up to press yourself against the rubber while he gripped your abused arm,

“No, _no_!” you wept, shying away from him. You had this bizarre urge to call for Dean.

“No?” Sam asked, “I thought you said you couldn’t help us.” you sobbed and tried to detach from him. Your road trip buddy spoke up,

“Sam.” it was one word, but it said much more. Stop, enough, she’s terrified. And he was right about the last one.

“No,” he growled, tightening his hold, “she needs to understand -”

“I - I _do_ understand!” you pled, scrambling on the black top. Then staring at the gleaming weapon you said, “Don’t kill me. . I’ll try to help. I - I swear.” it hurt to say, because you weren’t sure the words were true. Plus it felt like you were abandoning yourself somehow. . black magic was never supposed to be part of your life.

Sam finally released you with a furrowed brow,

“Well alright.” Dean looked unbelievably large standing over your cowering form - so did Sam, even _crouching_ \- it made you want to crawl under the car and hide, but you caught a glimpse of what looked like _sympathy_ in his greens before he recovered his hard mask. _That can’t be right._ . “Sam’s got a present for you, I think you’ll like it.” his tone told you the opposite.

Sam rose to dig in his pocket for a moment before producing a ring of shiny silver. It looked sort of like the bands currently on your wrist, with symbols and designs etched into it, only nice and slender enough to pass for jewelry. When the long haired giant crouched in front of you again and grabbed a leg, you balked.

“What is that?” he didn’t answer and you kicked at him, breaking his hold and scrambling away. It was hard with your arms bound, but the look on his face prompted you to keep trying.

“Hey, hey relax . You’re _fine_.” the use of your name on Sam’s voice did make you pause for a moment, but the entire situation was just too much for you to handle reasonably.

So you resumed your wild kicking. Horror grew when Dean came around his brother and dropped to latch on to your flailing legs. He promptly kneeled on one, which caused enough pain to make you scream, and smashed the other to the ground with both hands.

“Go ahead,” he growled to Sam while you writhed,

“ _NO_!” it was the most desperate noise ever, as Sam unclasped the band to capture your ankle. All you could think was it was some kind of torture device that might make your body burn again,

“No stop - what _is_ that! Don’t - no! Just tell me what it is. . . _please_ don’t hurt me!” and again you were sobbing beneath Dean’s weight, a disturbingly familiar place to be at this point. The metal touched your skin and you screamed in fear, despite feeling nothing out of the ordinary.

Then Dean did something surprising, he extended a hand to your knee and caressed it. . like. . to _comfort_ you. _What_? By the time Sam finally snapped the band in place, your sobbing had turned to just fearful weeping, as Dean’s hand still massaged tenderly. With an abrupt tug and quick examination, Sam nodded and stood,

“Alright that should work. I already checked us in, we’re in suites 1528 and 1529. One of them is just a king though so do you -”

“I’ll take the double.” Dean was still watching your face, and you swallowed at his heavy gaze, feeling your stomach drop a little bit. We’re staying in a suite? Sam hesitated,

“Uhh. . are you sure cause -”

“I’m sure.” he patted your knee and finally looked to Sam who tossed the key card between your legs, “See you up there.” with a conflicted nod and a furrowed brow, Sam fidgeted on his feet for a moment and then stalked off with an awkward,

“Uh, see you tomorrow .” _Jeez. Talk about whiplash_. . The brothers were impossible to read without your magic, but with the way Dean was looking at you, it wasn’t clear that you’d want to know anyway. After a moment of Dean watching your tearful face you began to ask,

“Why. .” you wanted to ask why he insisted on being in the same room as you, but were afraid what his answer might be. The phrase 'don’t ask if you don’t want to know' seemed to apply to the extremely blunt man. So you settled with asking about the anklet, “What _is_ this?”

“All it does is mute your magic, just like the ones on your wrists.” he hadn’t gotten off of your legs yet, but the way he was looking at you - so sincere - you didn’t mind for a moment. And that hand was still kneading away, almost as if by accident.

“Now I won’t have to walk you through the lobby in shackles - I doubt the desk clerk would turn a blind eye on that.” you sniveled.

“W-will it still burn me?” Dean actually smirked then,

“Only if I ask it to.” at that, your face crumpled a little and his hand squeezed your knee firmly, “Hey.” you opened your eyes, “Only if you make me.” a moment passed where his bright eyes sort of mesmerized yours and you copied his gentle nod, it was like he was a completely different man. . softer somehow. .

 _Still dangerous_. You reminded yourself. _He could just be playing me to get through the lobby without chaos._ Still, you couldn’t help but hope that he was starting to feel bad for you - the young girl he drug bodily out of the library before her shift was over.

With a grunt, Dean hoisted you up off the ground from under your armpits and steadied you before twirling his finger in signal to turn around. You started to obey, only to jump back around with a nervous noise, when you saw his hand go into his pocket. _The knife._

“Whoa whoa sweetheart,” he put up his free hand in a peaceful gesture and pulled out a set of very old keys with an odd grin, “I’m just gettin’ the keys. . no need to panic.” he chuckled at the redness of your face, and the fact that you couldn’t stop peeking over your shoulder as he unlocked the shackles.

You couldn’t hold in a loud moan as your shoulders fell forward and your arms swung free for the first time in ten hours, the muscles were stiff and screaming, and when you reached up to massage one, your hand met a much rougher one just before you made it to your shoulder. You froze.

“ _What_ -”

“Shh. .” and then there were two big rough hands. On either shoulder, rubbing and kneading much like he did to your knee earlier. Dean was massaging your shoulders. Before you could allow yourself to relax, you jumped away with a startled yip,

“Don’t _touch_ me,” it was meant to be a warning growl, but it just came out almost like a plea. A trace of anger slithered across the big man’s face, until he turned back to stone and gave an indifferent shrug before throwing the chains in the back door and throwing his duffle over his shoulder.

“Come on.” now that was a growl. And something told you that the harsh way he grabbed you was a testament to how little control you really had here. . sort of like an _“I can touch you whenever I want”_ type of gesture. It made you bristle, but in the end making him more angry wouldn’t bode well for you.

Since you weren’t an idiot, you did try to signal for help in the lobby. It turned out to be the biggest fucktastic fuck up of all time. There was a desk clerk standing behind the desk smiling politely as Dean towed you to the elevators, he was watching the two of you make your way across the pretty tan tile intently.

So you went for it. ‘ **HELP ME** ,’ you mouthed dramatically at him. His brow furrowed and you did it again. ‘ **HELP ME.** ' when he cocked his head you started to hope, but then the dipshit spoke,

“OH!” he exclaimed, beginning to laugh. The noise startled Dean in the quiet lobby, which would have been funny if you weren’t in deep shit now, “ _I_ get it!” Dean fully turned around to face him and called over the big space,

“Get what buddy?” he was still laughing, and Dean appeared perplexed. 

“I’m on one of those undercover videos! Like where someone records to see if the stranger with help the woman. . the last one I watched it was a kid - anyway bravo! Supreme acting! You almost had me there for a moment!” you gaped. _What a fucking idiot._

“Hear that baby? He thinks you're a good actress.” Dean smiled tightly and squeezed your arm so hard it brought tears to your eyes. “Actually my fiance here is trying out for the new Taken movie - she tries to get some practice in wherever she goes. You can imagine it gets us into trouble sometimes. . babe, what did I say about rehearsing in public?”

You looked helplessly at the clerk, thinking that there is no way he could be buying it, but he had a huge stupid smile on his face that said he was eating this shit up. _Great_.

“Um, sorry Dean.” you tried for a little smile, but it cracked just as Dean turned you away,

“Sorry about that!” Dean called over his shoulder,

“Oh it’s no problem, I love the Taken series! Enjoy your stay!” _are you fucking kidding me?_

“There’s already like _four_ Taken movies. . why the Hell would he think there was another!?” you whisper yelled, once you rounded the elevator column. Dean was actually laughing,

“That guy’s obviously missing a few screws.” you looked up at him while you waited for the elevator, he was grinning,

“You’re. . you’re not _mad_?” he chuckled again,

“Are you kidding? That was worth it - what an idiot. If you would’ve caused a scene, I might have put you over my knee though.” your cheeks flamed and you had to look away,

“Oh.” you managed,

“Hmmm,” he mulled, “Maybe I will anyway. .” when your eyes flew back up to his there was pure teasing there, “I had to see if your face could get any more red. It did. Loosen up sweetheart.”

“Loosen up? Seriously? I'm being kidnapped held against my will.” you mumbled, jumping when the elevator dinged. The Hunter didn’t even answer you. "Jerk." 

Dean finally released your arm when you got into the circular elevator. The walls were made of glass, the handrails and the trim a gold-colored metal. . everything was so shiny. You’d never really been anywhere so high class, your powers made that impossible.

As fancy as it was though, the thing still played that horribly cheery elevator musak on the inside and about two floors up Dean started bobbing his head and swaying his body absently - and _very_ subtly - to the ridiculous chiming beat.

Honestly, you were surprised that the tall Hunter wasn’t angry at you for trying to signal help, but the more you watched him naturally dance, the more you realized he was actually almost giddy.

In the best mood you’d seen him in at least. Despite yourself you snickered, and instead of clamming up, the rugged man gave you sort of a lopsided grin and amped up his stupidly endearing movements,

“Oh please. You can’t tell me you don’t wanna tap your feet right now. .” but when you finally smiled back a fraction, something in his expression changed and he stopped dancing. Instead he watched the elevator buttons go dark with each floor passed, and his expression had iced over completely by the time you hit the 15th floor.

In the moment it took for the doors to open you found some courage,

“Are you. . okay?” his green eyes practically cut you with how sharp they were, and you flinched. That was the only answer you got. Your face burned and for some reason your eyes misted. _Keep it together._ .

When the doors opened though, all worry was gone in a second. For like a curtain, the sliding doors revealed a lounge area with a huge floor length glass window that was facing downtown and stretched about 30 feet along the wall.

The window itself wasn’t what took your breath away though, it was the view. . Portland was alive. City lights blinked welcomingly while the Willamette river twinkled under a mixture of moonlight and dim neon while it wound through the uncountable number of extravagant bridges that sparkled with their own lights. .

It was so beautiful that you didn’t even realize you had moved toward the window, until your fingers came to rest on the cool glass. You had never seen anything quite like it outside of pictures. . It was like how you imagined New York, only much smaller scale.

“Umm. .” back to reality. You tore your gaze away from the city to find Dean standing a few paces back with his hands in his pockets. He had an unreadable expression on his face,

“Oh. . sorry,” you flitted your eyes back to the view once more, and began to move back over to him a little sheepishly, “It just kind of stole me away for a minute. .” you glanced at his face, he looked skeptical and you desperately wished you could touch him and feel what he was feeling.

Without your magic you felt blind. He cleared his throat, and glanced over your head at the window, squinting momentarily,

“Yeah it’s uh, it’s pretty I guess. .” you were watching the city glimmer off of his eyes,

“I’ve never seen anything like it. .” his face snapped down to yours that was a little too close for comfort you noticed, and you took a quick step back realizing that neither of you had been speaking about Portland’s view at all.

 _Oh no, no, no, no. Oh no. This asshole kidnapped you - and practically beat you. No. Absolutely not._ Dean muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like _“son of a bitch_ ”,

“What?” you asked and his eyes snapped back up to you. They were angry as far as you could tell,

“Nothing,” he growled, “Come here.” and again the Hunter manhandled you, practically dragging you down the hallway behind him,

“ _Hey_ \- you don’t have to be so rough,” you protested, pulling back a little, “You’re hurting my arm.” you grunted, but he seemed content with being a brute. Dean came to a stop in front of room 1528 and without letting go of you, pounded on the door,

“What are you doing?” you asked, but he ignored you to wrap the door again, “Is this not our room?”

“Quiet.” he snapped. _Why would he be taking you to Sam’s room?_ You were fidgeting around with nervous ticks, “Come on Sammy open up.” again he beat on the door with an aggression that had you flinching.

Finally the door opened to a very tired looking Sam Winchester who was wearing nothing but boxers, squinting against the light, and fretting over his severe bed head. His muscled torso actually almost made you gasp, and you so obviously jerked your head to the floor - both brothers had to have noticed. _Damn my sheltered life_.

“Dean - what the Hell? I was -”

“Yeah don’t care.” his brother cut him off, “You gotta switch me rooms.” both you and Sam came to attention at that, but for different reasons. While Sam looked mildly curious - a little concerned even - you felt a strange pang in your chest. Hurt. Dean just hurt your feelings. _That can’t be right._ . .

“Uh, any particular reason?” Sam shifted so one arm was propped high against the door while he leaned. . he looked very model-esque and much too big for the doorway. You worked to stop glancing up at the man. Dean was almost vibrating,

“I can’t explain right now, just fucking switch me - I can’t be in the same room as this bitch.” again your heart panged, but Sam’s face actually cracked in a smile, and then a short laugh. There seemed to be an inside joke here that only Sam found funny,

“Sam. .” Dean’s voice was low and warning, but his younger brother was already moving back to close the door. Still chuckling and shaking his head, “Sammy, I swear to God if you -” and the door closed, “Fuck!”

Dean punched it hard enough to leave a small dent in the metal. _Dear Lord. . ._ You swallowed and kept your eyes down even when you could feel his on you. The man shook his head and moved to room 1529 without another word, but before he went in he held it open and swept his arm in a lazy arc like he was some kind of gentleman.

It was frustrating that your eyes were pooling as you walked into the room, you were tired of letting Dean get the best of you.

“Why-”

“Shut up.” he cut you off, moving into the huge suite, dropping his duffel and shedding his jacket. “We aren’t gonna do that, okay?” he turned to you,

“Do - do _what_?” you whispered,

“We aren’t gonna do small talk and room service do you understand me? We aren’t fucking friends.” you felt like you’d just been slapped so you spat,

“I know, I would never want an asshole friend like _you_ anyway.” and he straightened up with a hint of surprise, “Take me back to Sam’s room, I don’t want to be around you.”

“Ah, kitty’s got claws after all.” he smirked, “Sure I’ll take ya back, but Sam’d probably try to fuck ya. He’s into that shit - you know monsters. Even had a demon girlfriend once. Hope you like a rough tumble.” he shot you a wink. The crass language shocked you and shook your resolve, but you tried not to let it show.

Even though it was plain as day. _He’s just trying to scare me_. . .

“Fuck you.” you knew that part of your sudden bravery was due to the fact that Dean was clear across the room, he couldn’t slap you from there if he wanted - you wouldn’t put it past him yet - but a bigger reason was that his words were cutting deep and you didn’t know why.

“Aw, if you insist,” the retort brought you up short,

“I - I didn’t mean -”

“Do you have to piss?” he looked bored,

“No.”

“Good, get over here. I’m gonna cuff you to the bed so you don’t try anything.” at his words, you took an instinctive step back and his eyes darkened on you. “Sweetheart, you don’t wanna play with me right now, it’s late.” _Oh is the poor baby tired? Tough shit._

“You’re not tying me to a bed. No fucking way.” at this, Dean let loose a huge sigh as he looked up at the ceiling, and you used his lack of attention to bolt backward for the door.

Your fingers didn’t even get to the lock before your whole body was slammed against the door, the wind was knocked from your chest,

“Get off of me!” you gasped, pushing back against him and trying to wriggle away. A big hand came down on your shoulder and twirled you into the closest wall so your front was facing the man. He had you pinned by the elbows. And he was fucking smirking.

“Let go! Stop _touching_ me - I don’t want to be anywhere near you!” he gasped dramatically and jutted out his lower lip,

“Aw, you’re breakin’ my heart baby.” he laughed when you struggled against him. It was clear who the winner would be here.

“I want out of this room! _NOW_!” you screamed, whining when his thumbs pushed into the pulse points on your inner elbows. “Stop it!”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” he raised his chin and gently shook his head back and forth at your crying and wiggling, “Everything’s gonna be just fine. Shh, quiet.” of course you didn’t believe him, thus far he’d been a borderline animal. Roughly handling you and causing pain like it was no big deal.

“You’re _hurting_ me. .” you wept,

“It can get a lot worse from here.” but his thumbs lightened up a little anyway. You were staring at his chest, almost eye level for you. . Dean was so much bigger than you it was insane, and he clearly had no problem reminding you every chance he got. It was infuriating. And dammit. . a little scary. 

A beat passed before Dean lifted you from the wall and hauled you over to one of the beds, you didn't stand a chance when he threw you down, and even less of a chance when he climbed over top of you with a length of rope.

"STOP!" you shrieked, thrashing beneath him with all of your might. He secured both of your wrists together with one hand and began to wind the coarse rope around them, "Dean don't - please don't tie me to the bed!" you were shaking your head and kicking, but he seemed to ignore you for the most part. That is until you went limp.

When he paused you didn't bother getting your hopes up, instead you just tried to hide your tears in the crook of your stretched out arm. Dean sighed harshly and sat back a little, relaxing his hold on your wrists,

"Why are you crying?" it was surprisingly soft, and you chanced a peek up at him. 

"Don't tie me to the bed," you whispered pleadingly, thinking in the back of your mind that if you had your magic, you would definitely abandon protocol and use it on this brutish asshole. He rolled his eyes, but looked sort of sympathetic,

"It's not that big of a deal, it's for both of our protection." but you knew better, maybe part of it was necessary, but there had to be another way. He was just tying you up to prove a point. _That I have no control here. ._

“Just let me go. .” a tear came out, your anger had basically drained away at this point. Still there and waiting to strike, but subdued by helplessness for now. However, the fact that Dean's position over you, and his semi-relaxed state, you could easily slide your knee up between his legs and hit him where it hurts.

“You don’t even have anywhere _to_ go,” Dean pointed out. Your leg twitched.

“I’m gonna call the fucking police!” you screeched earning a big hand crushing against your lips,

“Shut up,” he growled, “people are gonna think someone’s dying.” you shot him a look that said “ _no shit_ ” and he rolled his eyes, “This is what’s gonna happe -” finally with no warning you took your chance and jerked your knee up into Dean’s groin, cutting off his bossy sentence and freeing yourself from his hold,

“F - _fuck_. .” he practically squeaked as you shimmied out from under him hunched over on the bed, “Oh, you little bitch. .” he groaned as you tumbled off of the bed and preformed a frantic medley of crawling and running to the bathroom to slam the door. Only to let out a shriek of frustration when you saw there was no lock of course.

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_ Eyes searching frantically for a weapon, you tried not to lose your cool when you heard Dean’s heavy boots stomping to your hiding place,

“Get away from me!” you shrieked at the door, feeling that insidious fear pool in your belly as the raging man drew nearer.

“This coulda gone so much smoother,” yeah he definitely wanted to kill you. Your (e/c) eyes locked onto a crappy disposable razor set out on the sink for guests. It was still in it’s packaging, and when you lunged for it Dean came crashing through the door, so he got an eyeful of you fumbling with the clear packaging like your life depended on it.

_It might._

“What are you gonna do with that sweetheart?” he leered as he stepped into the spacious bathroom,

“I - I’m gonna _kill_ you with it!” you tried to snarl the words, but a baby would be able to see your fright. And it wasn’t lost on Dean, which is likely why he burst out in obnoxious laughter at your words.

“You’re -” more laughing, and he had to physically prop himself up on the sink, “You’re gonna kill me with that, huh?” tears pooled in your eyes while the rugged Hunter watched you cower back and sit gingerly on the lip of the tub. You wiped your eyes with the bottom of his shirt and kept the razor extended toward him,

“St-stay away from me. .” you sniveled, “I don’t want to hurt you.” his eyebrows went up and his smile grew to be almost blinding. The hidden meaning in your words was obvious ‘ _don’t hurt me._ .’ and you watched him with misty eyes as he leaned back on the counter and folded his arms. You were frightened. Undeniably so.

His t-shirt revealed corded muscle bulging from his biceps like taught ropes winding down his arms, he was so much stronger than you, so much more experienced in combat. . and if that wasn’t obvious already from the tussle on the highway, it was now just in the way he appeared so relaxed and confident. Like a predator at rest.

Meanwhile, your arm was getting tired from holding up the plastic razor. Dean scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor in front of his boots while he spoke,

“Look.” he sighed, “I know this is. . scary.” you eyes widened at his change, “But you have my word - I promise - if you just do as I say nothing bad will happen to you. I won’t hurt you tonight, or tomorrow, or a week from now. Clear?” and then he looked at you with bright green eyes, that made it hard not to believe him. . you wished you could.

“You’re lying.” you whispered and he stood up with the shake of his head. You cowered back from the big man, on your perch with the shaking razor.

“Alright then, second option. Let’s duke it out.” you gulped and rose quickly from your seat, trying to ignore how calculating his eyes were, how he was so obviously going to beat you here. Then a question that had been bugging you since he knocked you out in the library just kind of tumbled out,

“Why me?” he cocked his head, eyes still flashing for a fight, “Why did you choose _me_ that day?” he shrugged with his lips pursed,

“You are the smallest threat. The youngest witch nearby, and the easiest to overpower,” he shrugged again, “Spiritually, speaking for your magic. . and physically.” as if the smirk he gave wasn’t enough to set you off, he leaned forward slightly to whisper,

“You’re not a threat to me baby. Not even close.” and then you saw red. Forgetting all common sense, you threw yourself at the Hunter, lashing out with the razor and actually hitting his arm with it. The piece of shit didn’t cut.

Dean was fucking laughing, as you beat on his chest. He was holding you to him like a boyfriend might, with his arms wrapped low around your waist - as if you weren’t trying to claw his stupid green eyes out. A miracle happened then, your razor nicked the side of his neck - at least it felt like a miracle before all humor left Dean’s being.

Your wrist was suddenly clamped painfully in his hand as he held you flush against him with his other arm and twisted until the pain was so intense that the razor went tumbling to the floor from your tingling fingertips.

Then, quick as can be, you were spun to face the sink and slammed down to the marble counter top hard enough to make you scream, he held you down with a hand braced on your back.

With tear filled eyes, you looked into the mirror to see him stretching his neck out, dabbing at the little spot of blood on his neck, and wincing a little at the sting before pinning your reflection with full bore _rage_. It was how a man might look if he cut himself shaving. Minus the rage of course.

“You wanna be rough, huh?” he snarled stepping closer to lean over your back. Even if he didn’t mean for it to, his hips pressed right up into your ass, and being bent over the counter like that made you feel pretty vulnerable. But also something else. . something you’d never felt before. It felt warm. . and _tingly_. Still you whimpered,

“No, _no_. .” at his question, and tried to squirm,

“Ah ah,” he lifted you by the shirt and slammed you back down, “don’t move.” there was no air in your lungs, the hard counter top forced it all out, and Dean didn’t seem to give a shit that you were almost hyperventilating.

“You know. . .” he drawled, tracing a tear track on your cheek lazily, “All I have to do is say one little latin word to make this night a living hell for you.” every cell in your body froze, and you snapped your head up to look at him in the mirror. He was grinning, and it made your tears come in earnest.

Terror was pounding hard in your head, frustration and anger a close second. .

“All you have to do here is find the real Midnight Blue, out of all the fakes, it’s simple. Don’t make it hard.” he shifted so his weight came down even harder on your back, “If you do a good job, I’ll let you go home but you need to remember something.” he waited, so you managed a,

“What?”

“I’m a Hunter, and you’re a _what_. . .?” you closed your eyes and sobbed out the single word,

“M-monster.” he ‘ _hmmed_ ’ deeply in approval,

“And what do Hunters like me, do to Monsters like you?” your eyes were still squeezed shut, and you were quietly sobbing,

“P- _please_ Dean -”

“No.” he snapped, “What do Hunters do to Monsters. I want to hear it from you, so I know it makes sense.”

“You _kill_ them. . .” you wept,

“That’s right. We kill _you_.” then he jerked your head up by your (h/c) hair, and leaned down low to your ear, “Open your eyes.” you did very slowly, flushing red at all of the tears flooding out. It seemed to please him.

In the mirror, Dean’s body was draped over yours, his size now even more obvious at your closeness. Hell, his head was even bigger than yours. If the man was trying to demonstrate his dominance, he was doing a bang up job. When your eyes locked in the mirror, (e/c) to dark green, he smiled a sort of sweet smile.

Even though his hips were pressing yours painfully into the counter, you didn’t want to wiggle even in the slightest, which was stupid because there was no way this man didn’t already register how your ass felt pressed up against his groin. After all, _you_ noticed. Your lips trembled.

“Who’s in charge here?” it was a soft murmur, he didn’t break eye contact, and again you closed yours. He jerked your hair, “Open your fucking eyes!” with a frightened sob you did, “Now, answer.” with some difficulty you managed,

“Y- _you_ are Dean.” God you sounded like a little kid again. Even though you were watching it happen in the mirror, it was like you didn’t see it coming - because Dean _kissing_ you on the cheek didn’t seem like it would’ve happened in a million years, and you accidentally sighed at the feeling.

However when you got a load of his expression, it was clear that the peck wasn’t meant to be comforting or sweet, it was supposed to be demeaning. . and that’s exactly how it felt.

“Good.” you collapsed when he released your hair, and curled to the side a little to try and relieve some pressure on your hips. Dean wasn’t moving. He was still pressed against your backside, and still holding you to the counter. You gulped,

“W-what are you doing. . ?” it was the weakest whisper of all, but the echoing marble made it audible.

“Just. . reading the situation. .” in the mirror, Dean’s gaze was on your face, zeroed on your red cheeks and conflicted eyes. Elsewhere however, the man’s attention was on your trembling thighs, weak knees, and warming core. Things that he identified through his many experiences as signs of _arousal_.

“Get off me.” you whispered, and he ‘ _hmmed_ ’ making you yelp by rocking his hips slightly forward,

“Are you sure sweetheart, cause we could have some fun. .” you whimpered, fisting your hands up tight on the counter,

“Y-you’re just trying to scare me.” and he chuckled bitterly,

“Gold star for you.” then he pushed off of you roughly, seeming to come back to himself with a rough shake of his head, but you still weren’t moving until he left. “Now get the fuck in bed, we got a long day tomorrow.” but just before he turned to leave the bathroom, you spotted a look in his eye that you weren’t meant to see.

It was pity. Dean felt bad for you. . _Then why is he being so mean?_ It was confusing, and too top it off, unsettling how he made you feel bent over the counter. 

Scared and angry obviously, but also. . . _aroused_? _No it couldn’t be. This guy is a total dick. Except for when he let me look at the view. . and when he comforted me in the parking garage. . and when he tried to sooth me even after I kneed him in the balls. . and what was up with that look in the mirror just now?_

The term Stockholm Syndrome popped into your head, but you shook it off and rose to venture out into the main room. Even though Dean was one scary motherfucker, he seemed conflicted about this whole situation at times. . and that was enough to give you hope.

Deep down you knew there was no denying it, you were attracted to Dean. _Fuck_.

When you got to the bedroom, Dean was digging through his duffel mumbling something to himself. His back was to you, so you froze to listen,

“. . . don’t care about that fucking witch. . she’s a fucking witch! . . . not some little girl. .” you stepped forward a tiny step to hear more, “. . . getting played. . she’s not innocent. Fucking feeling sorry for a monster. . . bullshit -” and then he stopped suddenly, and upon looking at the window, in the direction he was, you knew why.

He could see your reflection clear as day in the glass, as you could see his. And his wasn’t happy. _Fuck_.

“Huh, got a little eavesdropper on my hands, do I?” stood and turned to advance with more anger than usual, it was almost suffocating in the tiny room. You stumbled back with your hands out,

“No - no I - _AHH_!” he fisted your billowing t-shirt at the collar and jerked you to your tiptoes,

“What did you hear?” he snarled,

“N- _nothing_!” even though that was a lie, “I didn’t hear anything Dean - I wasn’t even standing there for that long!” he huffed and dropped you, then caught you when you wobbled slightly. That little action right there attested to his feverish conversation with himself. You were getting to him - making him feel bad - and you could only hope that he would give into it before his frustration made him rip you apart.

“Jesus Christ. .” he breathed, running a hand over his stubbled face and scrubbing his hair. “Jesus. .”

“I’m sorry if I -” he held up a hand,

“No, it’s. .” he grumbled and sighed, “I’m just a little on edge is all. . this place is crawlin’ with witches, and. .” he trailed off and looked into your eyes,

“And what?” you whispered,

“Let’s just say me and witches have never really gotten along so great.” he winced at a memory no doubt, and you ventured,

“I don’t see why, so far you’ve been super easy to get along with.” when he actually snorted at that, you cracked a small smile. His eyes crinkled up and he sighed this sort of wondering sigh,

“You’re pretty tough, I’ll give ya that.” and you shrugged,

“Oh. . . you’ll have to try a lot harder than that to crack me dude.” that was such a fucking lie you almost vomited. You had been completely cracked, totally demolished in the past 24 hours.

“Noted.” there was a heavy pause hanging between the two of you, and Dean suddenly took a step back as if he just remembered who he was talking to. “Uh. . anyways, I don’t have to tie you up after all. I can just etch some markings in on the door handle. . it’ll knock you out if ya touch it.” you nodded, trying to appear unfazed. _Charming_.

“So are you gonna tell me anything about this stone?”

“It’s powerful.” he told you over his shoulder as he dug for a knife,

“I got that. .” you plopped on the bed, “What does it do?” Dean sighed and stopped his knife hunt. It was clear he was debating on how much to tell you.

“Oh what the Hell. .” he grumbled, “According to the Lore, whoever possesses the Midnight Blue has the power to make anything a reality.” the you could tell he was quoting right out of his source, “As you see the world to be, so it is.” you pondered that,

“What does it mean?” he turned to you and sat on his bed, bracing his arms on his thighs,

“Exactly what it sounds like, you can create whatever you want with it. Money, love, world domination. . anything.” he shook his head, “No one should have that much power.”

“What would _you_ ask for?” his gaze snapped up and he tried to pull off a carefree chuckle,

“Nothin at all, I don’t need anything else.” but his eyes told a different story,

“Dean. .” he blinked and swallowed hard,

“Uh. . somethin’ I already had once. . my brother too. . It doesn’t matter.” even when he waved you off and stood up to go work on the door handle, you pushed,

“It sounds like it matters to _you_.” he whirled suddenly angry, and pointed his knife at you like a finger,

“I know what you’re doing and it isn’t gonna work, quit tryin’ to humanize yourself - or fucking connect with me -” he looked disgusted, “I don’t care for witches, and I sure as hell don’t care for you.” you blinked at his outburst, shocked silent.

“So shut the fuck up and go to sleep. I need you rested for the morning.” when he turned around though you squeezed the sheets in your hand to try and conjure the courage to say one last thing,

“If I had the stone, I would take my magic away. . I’d erase it like it was never there. Even though I’m lost without it. I hate this disease. It’s isolating.” Dean was so obviously listening, because his carving stopped halfway through your sentence and still hadn’t started back up. And a silent tear fell, a secret that he wouldn’t ever know,

“Having no power, because of _this_ thing -” you jingled the ankle bracelet, “- Is the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. . I can’t protect myself if you decide to hurt me, I can’t compel myself the things I need. . I don’t even know how to tell what you’re thinking. But at the same time I’ve never felt more alive - more grounded. . more normal.”

Of course there were some things that you would miss - like free rent at your apartment, and some of the irreplicable smells that came with your emotions. . truthfully, you didn’t know if you would rid yourself of power permanently, but that little silver band would sure as hell come in handy every so often.

After a moment, Dean shook his head and got back to his etching,

“Thought I said to go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, alright. Here's the deal on this one. . I'm giving it serious thought because I love this idea so much, but it's looking like I might either orphan this work or delete it :( When I started writing it, I had another story that was sort of similar so I made the mistake of trying to meld them together and it just isn't working (shocker). Ugh, I'm sorry to those of you that have bookmarked and are following!!
> 
> Since this is the first time I've really struggled with a fic on here, I'm leaving the comments open for ideas, suggestions, critique, possible routes for the characters, ANYthing you're thinking about this fic. Feel free to tell me to delete it. Honestly. There's a chance I might just trash it and start from scratch (because the prompt is amazing!!) or going back through and editing my ass off - - but as of right now I feel like my characters are running wild and a tad empty. Thank you so much for your support, and for reading my cry for help! 
> 
> Love ya'll and thanks for reading!! <3


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